CHAPTER 20
George
I can’t remember the last time I was this excited.
I managed to get a few hours off, meeting my trainer early this morning and promising that my morning activities were in fact tennis-related.
We’re in the back of the car and I can’t keep my eyes off Leo as she looks out the window. I want to know what she’s thinking, even though most of the time her emotions are so clearly written on her face, she’s practically telling me.
I think she’s nervous, but I really want her to enjoy this morning. She turns, noticing me staring, and the morning sun catches her vivid green eyes, illuminating them. It’s breathtaking.
‘Your eyes are incredible,’ I blurt out without thinking. I see my driver raise his eyebrows in the mirror.
She blushes, looking away before peeking back. ‘Thanks,’ she says shyly, as if she doesn’t know. Surely someone has told her before?
We sit in silence for most of the journey, sharing the odd smile.
I’m itching to take her hand, so small and delicate, resting on the middle seat.
I brush my little finger against hers and she looks down at our hands, before bringing her gaze to mine.
Her eyes roam my face, settling on my lips, hers parting slightly.
My breathing hitches, my heartbeat accelerating rapidly. Without thinking, I lean across . . .
‘We’re here, sir.’ The car stops outside and reality floods back. I wrench my gaze away and scoot round to open her door, offering a hand for her to step out.
‘Aston Martin?’ she questions, looking at the entrance. ‘Where are we?’
‘Wait until we’re inside.’ I lift our rackets onto my shoulder and put my hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the main entrance and towards the rickety old lift.
We slowly rise, coming to a stop on the sixth floor, and I try not to release the grin that threatens to appear at her puzzled face. I finally take her hand, linking my fingers through hers, and pull her along.
Reaching the entrance to the hall, I ask, ‘Can I cover your eyes?’
She nods and I place my hands gently over her face, guiding her through the door. I feel her breath hitch as I nudge her along with my hip, our bodies almost flush.
‘Surprise!’ She opens her eyes and gasps out loud, her hands flying to her open mouth.
‘George!’ She cranes her neck, looking at the intricate wooden slatted ceiling.
‘George, seriously? I’ve always wanted to visit La Cavalerie!
I had no idea it was so hidden away.’ She turns back to me.
‘This is spectacular.’ She’s smiling broadly, joy lighting up her beautiful face.
I’m in awe. ‘It’s, honestly, incredible. Thank you.’
As I place our rackets down on the bench, I clear my throat, voice coming out thick, ‘I’m so pleased you like it.’
‘Like it? George, this has been on my bucket list for years. I love it! How did you even book it during the Open?’
I smirk slightly. ‘I might have called in a favour.’ I move towards her, taking her hands in mine. ‘Totally worth it for that look on your face.’
She turns pink again and I can’t help but run the back of my fingers along her cheekbones. ‘I really like when you blush, by the way. You look cute.’
She scoffs and shoves me away playfully. ‘Cute?’
‘Yes. Cute. Pretty too.’ I put my hands on her waist and tug her closer to me. ‘Want to rally with me? Show me your skills?’ I nod towards the court, a hint of a challenge in my voice.
‘Bring it on.’ She saunters away, bending over to pick up her racket and, in doing so, flashes a hint of cleavage. Her eyes meet mine as she slowly comes back up. They’re wide, soft; she’s the picture of innocence in her baby blue tennis skirt and white collared vest.
So it’s like that. I see.
My physical game needs to be on point today; she’s already winning on mentality.